


seeing eye to lack thereof

by spiralsbian



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast), Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Beholding Kevin (Welcome to Night Vale), Corruption Kevin (Welcome to Night Vale), Established Relationship, Gen, He/Him Pronouns For Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Has ADHD, Kevin (Welcome to Night Vale) Has ADHD, Original Statement (The Magnus Archives), Psychotic Jonathan Sims, Psychotic Kevin (Welcome to Night Vale), Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Spiral Kevin (Welcome to Night Vale), Web Lauren Mallard, author is all three, but not a statement fic per se, but who lives and dies isnt all that relevant, canon typicalish body horror and gore, hes also touched by slaughter and stranger and flesh and vast and web its a mess, in descending levels of prevalence, kevin and jon somehow manage to be foils without being from the same show, none of the following are explicitly mentioned but, though kevin would prolly call himself corruption, voices are complicated so kev's alignment is tricky but best described as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27763450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiralsbian/pseuds/spiralsbian
Summary: "the aforementioned sign is bright and garish and painted what would best be described as neon tangerine. there's a sun in the top corner, with a spiraling pattern that, upon closer inspection, appears to be a centipede curling in on itself.most importantly, it has "welcome to desert bluffs!" written in a deep red."or, jon goes to research a particularly odd statement and finds himself in an even friendlier desert community
Relationships: Carlos/Cecil Palmer, Charles/Kevin (Welcome to Night Vale), Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Kevin (Welcome to Night Vale), Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Comments: 26
Kudos: 40





	seeing eye to lack thereof

**Author's Note:**

> right so originally i was going to try and make this like. make sense in the timeline. but i clearly changed my mind so this is just in whatever timeline i damn well choose, the biggest example of this being that helen's here and close w jon but tim is decidedly alive and martins not lonely and jon's point on the character arc is kinda messy. this is really self indulgent what can i say
> 
> speaking of self indulgence i spend a fucking hour describing kevin again this is Self Indulgent and my adhd brain refuses to let me not go on longass tangents jus.... pretend its not there
> 
> this was written over the course of multiple months as well as in an entirely unlinear fashion (the last scene i finished was chronologically one of the first, actually?) so any style inconsistency can be mooostly blamed on that
> 
> warnings for: less than wtdb canon typical decsriptions of gore violence and body horror but there is some, tma spoilers up to roughly season four, wtnv spoilers up to 137

this is certainly the desert, but its not... _the_ desert.

jon doesn't know if he capital-k _Knows_ this or if its simply a gut feeling, but he's nearly certain its true.

for one thing, it doesn't... _feel_ right, and not in the way that it didnt-feel-right before. looking at that bright _welcome to night vale!_ poster from artefact storage had a very specific effect on you, as if something you'd never noticed before was ripped away and replaced with something indescribably different. (not like he hasn't been *there* before.) _this_ desert feels more like every bit of that metaphorical white noise has been turned up and pushed to the left. similar, yes, but jon's an expert on abstract concepts at this point- the feelings are very much not the same.

of course, jon isn't basing this theory _solely_ on mismatched mismatches. despite his experience, jon is still finicky enough to not accept that on its own. the eye has also deemed it fit to inform him that he's in a domain of the vast, and of the _many_ entity-related themes in the night vale statement he's researching, the falling titan wasn't quite strong enough to sell jon on night vale being anything stronger than touched by it- certainly not _inside of it._

but whatever. apparently its as close as it gets, so despite the fact that heading off in a random direction and hoping the eye will guide him makes him feel _stupid as all hell,_ he'll work with it. 

...although, of course, he doesn't have to be happy about it. sure, helen _had_ said that this was the closest her doors could get him to night vale, but did she really have to drop him in - quite literally - the middle of _nowhere?_

he wanders for quite a while - jon can definitely tell that time is different here, although without a watch he can't place if its faster or slower - and his patience is _just_ about at the breaking point when he spots something... new.

at the realization its a town, jon's heartbeat kicks up.

as he runs over to examine the sign out front, multiple things happen at once. they all make his stomach drop.

thing one: he is immediately struck with the unshakable realization that he has crossed a line. he has _entered something,_ no doubt about it- there's no town lines that he can see, and he could _probably_ walk away at any time, but that doesn't stop the chill down his spine.

thing two: he suddenly feels _very_ watched. not quite the gaze of the beholding, at least not in any familiar way, but clearly something similar. its an uncomfortable feeling, and if he wasn't _certain_ that it was supernatural he'd glance around to check for stalkers. something is clearly off.

thing three: this is _not_ night vale. the sign's _stark_ contrast to the infamous poster makes that clear enough.

the aforementioned sign is bright and garish and painted what would best be described as neon tangerine. there's a sun in the top corner, with a spiraling pattern that, upon closer inspection, appears to be a centipede curling in on itself. most importantly, it has "welcome to desert bluffs!" written in a deep red.

("population: all smiles!!" is written in smaller text below it with the same color. there are small smiley face stickers, not unlike those a child might get for being brave at the doctor's office, scattered around it. even with all his disappointment, he still has space in his thought process to find that disgustingly trite.)

jon makes a valiant effort not to scream. its not like a town in the middle of the vast isn't a useful discovery, right? and it _was_ mentioned that there were other towns in the night vale area, and although desert bluffs wasn't mentioned by _name_ there's still the chance this is one of them, especially considering the near identical slogan- perhaps he can get directions..?

 _directions._ to the supernatural hellscape town that even helen couldn't get him into. god, is he _listening_ to himself? christ, this is-

"-oh!! there you are!!"

jon nearly leaps out of his fucking _skin_ at the sound of someone speaking. he'd been so wrapped up in the sensation of being watched by whatever supernatural being has its eyes on him that he hadn't noticed the actual human being nearby.

he glances over, and the first thing he notices is that the man is strikingly tall. the second thing he notices is that the man is strikingly attractive. don't get him wrong, jon's not interested, and not in the alexithymic mess of a way he 'wasn't interested' in martin and tim. however, he needs you to understand that from an objective stance this man is superhumanly handsome. his smile is absolutely blinding, and if jon were so inclined he could probably make several poetic similes on the subject.

jon is not so inclined. what he's trying to convey to you is that if he'd seen this man before, at literally any point in his entire life, _he'd remember._ as he definitely has not, there's no logical reason why this man was looking for him and/or could recognize him.

obviously, jon is immediately suspicious. this isn't paranoia, this is just the only rational response in the situation.

there's nothing about this man that screams eye avatar, per se - while the beholding _is_ one of the more subtle entities, there's typically a few telltale signs. namely, as one might guess, the eyes: sometimes they're piercing, sometimes they seem brighter than they should be, sometimes they glow colors when their powers are in use, sometimes they feel almost uncanny, sometimes they seem to be drawing you in (and _not_ in the poetic way), sometimes they don't blink- et cetera, et cetera, you get the point. jon has done significant research into the subject, and seeing as a certain cunt of a boss happens to check off all of those boxes and jon himself apparently checks off about half, he's intimately familiar with them.

this man's eyes, outside of making *remarkably* friendly eye contact considering how distrustful jon must look right now, have none of these. the way the man carries himself doesn't suggest he knows things he shouldn't, more curiosity and familiarity. plus, jon has been tied up with the beholding for quite some time now - he likes to think he could take an educated guess. while the swishing trench coat that reminds jon oddly of labcoats _could_ suggest a trademark flair for the dramatic, he _does_ realize that beholding avatars don't have a monopoly on that.

however, jon can't think of any other explanation on why the hell this man would seem so familiar with him. in another universe, he'd question if he was overreacting- its a simple greeting, and its not like he said jon's name - hell, he didn't even call him archivist! but in a place so clearly entrenched in the powers, and with such a strong feeling of something at least adjacent to the beholding...

jon doesn't trust this, to say the least.

though this area makes his intrinsic connection to the beholding feel a little strange, like some sort of interference, the eye _does_ elect to tell him that the man in front of him is named charles, and that he is a theologist. or perhaps a professor..? he's not quite sure how to interpret the information of "charles the theologist" popping into his mind as the man's name, but at least it gives him something to work with. not knowing anything about someone who appears to know at least _something_ of note about you is... distressing. to some degree, this alleviates it.

(jon supposes he's getting a taste of his own medicine, but whatever. its still unpleasant, okay?)

all of these thoughts _seem_ to be running through his mind at top speeds, but jon must be making quite the uncomfortable silence, because after a moment the man continues. "assuming its you, of course. you do match the description - you look like you haven't slept in _weeks_. ah, no offense." his smile gains a touch more awkwardness, but doesn't drop.

well, now jon's just _confused_.

he doesn't really _mean_ to ask what description charles is talking about, as this situation demands a bit more delicacy in his actions, but his curiosity - and pretty much any emotion he has, to be fair - does tend to lead to spontaneous questions.

for a moment, charles looks as baffled as jon feels. "do you not listen to the radio?" he asks, like he can't fathom the concept. this response is far from elucidating. "i guess that makes sense, actually- you _are_ new in town. you should get to listening, though."

that last sentence feels uncomfortably closer to a warning than to a glowing review coming from a place of civic pride. jon doesn't like it.

"what does that have to do with anything?" jon asks, and lets out a small sound of annoyance when it comes off far weaker than intended. (he means this metaphorically - jon intended to sound snappish with that comment, but he just sounds confused - and literally - that feeling of interference hasn't gone away, and he finds it far more difficult to give his voice that familiar tone of compulsion. this will be annoying, he has a feeling.)

charles gives a small shiver as if there was a cool breeze passing through - there was not, the desert is incredibly hot and jon wishes he was dressed better - but otherwise gives no sign that the compulsion affected him to any significant degree. "oh!! right, you don't listen- you were in the traffic report. i figured you might want a proper welcome? kevin gave me mine, but he's busy at the moment, so i might as well."

multiple questions arise from that statement. why the hell was some random person near no roads mentioned in the traffic report? why is his compulsion failing him _now_ of all times? is the emphasis on the name 'kevin' paired with the assumption jon would know who that is a sign of this kevin being an avatar of an entity charles has an affinity for or are the two just together? most importantly, how does whoever's doing the traffic report know he's here?

"...right," jon says slowly, trying to avoid his confusion - and admittedly fear, as this whole situation reminds him slightly of elias, and the only good way for a scenario to remind you of elias is "wow, elias would sure hate this!" - showing in his tone. jon makes a valiant attempt to push his extreme unease to the side - he's clearly stumbled on something just as wound up in the fears as night vale, and it would be ridiculous not to look into it. "and what is... a proper welcome, exactly?" while being shown around by a member of town might save jon quite a bit of time, if this answer sounds like *anything* along the lines of "we are going to traumatize and possibly kill you to feed our entity" he's going to explore on his own, thank you very much.

once again, charles looks a little bewildered. "uh, just greeting you, i suppose!! welcoming you to desert bluffs, showing you around, taking you to meet kevin? just to help you get your bearings," he answers, and he does _seem_ genuine enough. everything he's saying just sounds like a normal thing for a strangely friendly member of a strangely friendly small town to do, except for the meeting part, but jon was planning on looking into this 'kevin' individual anyway. being shown right to him would is the best help jon can get in that regard.

jon puts as much of his trepidation as possible on the back burner - but easily reachable, as there's _no_ way the fears aren't involved in this town and he _needs_ to be on his guard - and nods. "...okay. you want to show me around." he says slowly, and charles gives a nod of confirmation. "lead the way, then."

charles brightens again, giving a grin. good god, _how_ are his teeth that straight? that can't be physically possible, that's beyond the point of a good orthodontist - "alright!! i moved to town somewhat recently, actually, but i know it like the back of my hand. so i'm perfectly equipped to give a tour - it's one of the most theologically fascinating towns in the us, you know!!" charles _immediately_ brightens when he says this, and while jon is _sufficiently skeptical_ there's some ranking of the most theological american cities, he's willing to take the man's word for it. the town's soaking in the fears, and one could make the argument those count as gods. _technically,_ charles is correct.

with that, charles leads him along, and jon quickly comes to the conclusion that desert bluffs is... weird, and not in the way he anticipated.

aesthetically it's a nice place, sure. very pretty, very sunny, in the metaphorical sense alongside the literal one. a little hot for jon's tastes, but that's to be expected in a literal desert.

all in all, it's... pleasant. _too_ pleasant. its so friendly and lovely that jon feels like its about to shove that friendliness down his _throat_. he's _loath_ to say it, but its kind of spooky? jon can't place what fear the feeling would fall under, but the town feels decidedly unnatural.

annoyingly, charles keeps starting idle conversation while jon tries to work all this out. jon follows along a little bit though, as he _does_ need information about the place and charles seems like a good person to give it. he doesn't _provide_ much to the conversation outside of a stiff refusal to give his name, which charles seems both aware of and not particularly deterred by, but he does take mental notes.

the mental notes are as follows: desert bluffs prides itself on being friendly and positive. it is interchangeably referred to as "desert bluffs too" (or maybe desert bluffs 2?) for reasons charles did not elaborate on. there is currently no mayor, as the prior one was evicted on less-than-pleasant terms, the specifics of which the theologist was equally cagey about when pressed. kevin and the esoteric radio host are one and the same, which jon already suspected. charles uses the phrase "theologically fascinating" with high frequency, even when discussing things that - as far as jon can tell - are neither fascinating nor related to theology. the town is run by the community - charles did not explain how this works exactly, but he did say that it runs smooth enough, though it is _not productive_. this leads nicely to jon's next point: apparently, jon should put his best effort into avoiding any usage of the phrases "look around you" or "look inside you" and _especially_ not alongside each other, though that's not as bad as _any_ reference to _productivity_.

that last bit is the only part that jon would describe as a real lead, but pushing the issue yielded nothing more than nervous assertions that charles "wouldn't be the person to ask", a swift topic change, and more proof that jon's powers aren't working in the slightest. its all very frustrating.

eventually though, charles's attempts at conversation dry up sharply as he tenses, apparently seeing something - though jon can't _fathom_ what could scare a man apparently immune to compulsion. jon can hear him mutter something, the only words of which jon can catch being "not _now_ ", and immediately looks over to see the source of such discomfort.

a woman is walking over, her eyes locked on them and a bitter smile on her face. unlike charles, the eight eyes, what looks like fangs, and the cobwebs patterned on her suit and tangled in her hair makes her alignment _abundantly_ clear, although she doesn't carry the clear authority jon generally expects from web avatars. she just looks... disgruntled. there's also a frown tattooed on her, which doesn't really scream mother of puppets, although what does jon know? not _much_ , with all this obnoxious _interference_.

despite her lack of real threatening presence, jon feels more on edge. a web avatar of any kind is the _last_ thing he wants to deal with right now.

"charles!" she greets, though she doesn't sound all that happy about it. "just the man i'm looking for. hm, though no, not _quite_ \- do you know where that _lovely_ boyfriend of yours is?" jon would be confused by the question, as charles implied _everyone_ listens to the radio so it should be obvious, but coming from an obvious web avatar jon suspects this might be some kind of play. at the very least, knowing kevin and charles are dating answers _one_ question of many. here's to small victories.

charles tenses up further, fiddling with his cuff. "lauren," he says, sounding even less enthused. "he said he was going to talk to you later? so i assume he'll find you, if you have something to say - is there anything else?" jon isn't sure what to make of charles clearly avoiding the question with an already obvious answer, or the apparent underlying messages that jon can't begin to decipher - the more he hears about this kevin character, the more confused he gets.

the woman - lauren - looks displeased with this answer, which jon finds understandable. she does stop glaring daggers for a moment to glance at jon, though. he doesn't like it. "not about _that_ , no, but who's this? no-one told me we had visitors!" she answers, and jon is suddenly understanding why she makes charles so tense. she's not _scary_ per se, not outside of jon's general apprehension regarding the web, but she does have a way of getting under one's skin.

charles relaxes ever so slightly, but still looks profoundly uncomfortable. "he was on the traffic report earlier?" he starts, gauging lauren's expression. she gives a nod of recognition, which oddly enough makes charles look _more_ tightly wound. jon's deeply uncomfortable by all the subtext he's missing, though he can't imagine he feels more tense than charles looks. "he's new in town, i figured i'd show him around."

lauren hums, not dropping her tight smile. "did you now?" her gaze, which he can only describe as profoundly put-out, falls onto jon fully. "ah, what _was_ your name again? i just can't quite recall from the report!!"

...charles had asked jon's name, earlier. his name can't have been in the report. jon keeps his mouth shut.

charles seems to catch on as well, shifting a little closer to jon. "lauren, he doesn't really have time to stay and talk - we have to get to the station." he says quickly, and while he winces at the last two words, he appears to be choosing his battles. jon's honestly glad he picked the one of _getting jon out of here as quickly as possible,_ because the longer he looks the more venomous lauren's fangs look. he _doesn't like the web,_ okay?

lauren bites her lip (with her sharp fangs that jon _swears_ are dripping, he _hates_ the web he hates it) before letting out a sigh through her teeth. " _right_ , yes. _yes!!_ " she says, slowly building up to a chirp again. "tell kev i say _hi_ , would you?" the woman finishes, directing her statement at _jon_ instead of the obvious choice of charles for reasons he can't particularly decipher. "you should hurry along if you're busy, of course!!"

charles gives a bit of a stilted nod, before getting out a quick "that's right, see you, lauren!!" and ushering jon forwards with a sense of urgency. once she's out of earshot, the taller man gives jon an apologetic smile. "sorry about her, she's usually a little less... uh, venomous? well, unless its with - nevermind, i'm not sure what her issue is today, but that's not _entirely_ out of character, so don't worry about that - sorry that had to be your intro to such a friendly place, though." he says, shrugging a bit. "she _is_ right though, we should get moving!!"

...jon is _not_ comforted. "...ah. well - right." he starts, squaring his shoulders as he fiddles with his sleeve. if this kevin character is web aligned too, he honestly might just forgo the whole research idea. "carry on, then?"

charles continues to lead him along, a touch more rushed now after that whole... lauren debacle. then again, maybe jon's just impressing his own nerves - how much can he reemphasize that he _doesnt enjoy the web??_

one way or another, they get to the desert bluffs community radio station - which is just as almost threateningly bright as the rest of the town - in record time. their speed doesn't make jon any less antsy about all this, though, and it _definitely_ doesn't make him want to get this over with any less. as such, he shoves open the doors and storms in, which was... a terrible decision, really.

now, jon was already feeling nauseous from the anxiety and confusion, but walking into the studio makes him close to vomiting. there's blood _everywhere_ \- he can't see a spot in the room where there's not splotches of red, some worryingly fresh. viscera is scattered around the walls, and he can see clumps of hair and what he _hopes_ isn't skin on a counter. he briefly sees someone in the hallway, but when his eyes dart to estimate if the thing on the right wall is really part of a _fucking intestine good god this is why he hates flesh statements_ and back, she's gone. so, there's either something fears-related about, or he's seeing figures. the gory spectacle before him makes him _very_ much inclined to believe the former.

charles, at the _very fucking least_ , seems to recognize that this is strange. (strange being the biggest possible understatement! oh my fucking god!) he gives jon a sympathetic look, somehow not caring about the fact that blood is seeping into his shoes. "don't worry, this is normal for the studio - since ryan nichols's first visit they keep a bucket over there if you need to be sick. do you want to step outside?"

jon does, but he doesn't really want to show fear right now. if past experience is any indicator, he'll end up showing some _later_ , when he comes across whoever regularly spills blood enough for this to be "normal" and his steeled nerves disappear. so, he shakes his head quickly, clenching the fabric of his sleeves in his fists. "no- no. i'm fine, this is..." he trails off, before giving another shake of the head. "i'll stay here. where's this kevin, then?" he doesn't even try to compel the man there, it'll just hurt his pride.

"in the studio, where else?" charles answers, again looking perplexed. jon admits that its a sort of dumb question, but he's not thinking straight in the slightest with all this _blood_. "there's a prerecorded message from the society for clean sharp teeth coming up in a moment, though - kevin doesn't usually let other organizations record their own messages? but he's still smoothing things over - so he'll be out- _oh_!!"

jon is about to ask why the hell there's an entire organization surrounding sharp teeth and what one could _possibly_ do to have drama with them, when charles's face lights up. someone's running over, launching themself into a tackling hug with charles before jon can get a good grasp on what they look like.

the person lets out a happy hum and rocks back onto their heels, backing out of the hug but still beaming. from the pretty clear context clues jon already has a guess to their identity, but charles's bright exclamation of "kevin!! kevin, the guy from traffic's here - he wanted to ask you some things, i think?" makes it pretty clear. jon immediately looks over to get the best look as possible, and...

right. not... _everything_ about the decidedly monstrous thing before jon is odd - he's on the more humanoid side of things, unlike some avatars. jon can't estimate quite how old he is - his best guess based on looks would be mid-to-late thirties, but something about that feels incorrect. he stands a few inches over jon, but he's not _towering_ over him like charles, or even particularly tall - jon just happens to be decidedly short.

the man's hair is bright blonde and curly, going down to about his shoulders. the color matches with the yellow-tinted glasses he's wearing, the kind that are clearly more for aesthetic appeal than any sort of prescription. his blood-spattered shirt - which somehow manages to blend aspects of a fancy embroidered blouse and a cartoonish slogan t-shirt - is _yet again_ yellow and has red mesh underneath. he's wearing several necklaces with chewlery and what jon _really_ hopes aren't human teeth attached, along with a long swishing maroon skirt with a centipede pattern that jon recognizes from both the sign at the front of town and the golden tattoos going up and down the avatar's arms and legs.

alongside the tattoos, this kevin character is also riddled with scars. jon's not one to gawk at scars, especially when he has so many of his own, but its impossible not to jot down when he's staring at the man to gain any semblance of information anyway. the most prominent are a series of long scars running up the sides of his cheeks, most likely done to approximate a smile. emphasis on _approximate_ as the wounds either healed over poorly, were done haphazardly, were done several times, or all three, leading to the "smile" looking even messier than a scarred over glasgow smile inherently would. other than that though, there appear to be scars on every visible body part. the most common ones appear to come from cuts and burns, though there's also some pockmarks akin to jon's own alongside ones that suggest he's gotten several stitches. quite a few of them are scattered across the thing's neck, surrounding an odd metal collar with a busted light on the front and logos just about everywhere else. jon doesn't recognize any of said logos, although they _have_ all been scratched over with some kind of knife, so perhaps that's not his fault.

jon finds it sort of strange that there's not many scars surrounding his eyesockets, leading jon to the strangest thing of all about the man: he has no eyes whatsoever. jon can't quite tell if they're missing or were never there in the first place, because... _kevin_ does have eye _sockets_ \- its just that by no definition could you ever describe their contents as human eyeballs. the not-eyes somehow simultaneously give the impression of being both empty gaping dead-looking holes and filled to the brim with some kind of complete darkness.

while having no pupils - or perhaps being all pupil? - jon can still tell when they lock on his own, as they practically pierce into him. a shudder runs down jon's spine as he attempts to channel his powers and give the same feeling back. unfortunately, the interference has been off the charts since jon stepped into the studio, and the thing doesn't even blink.

...jon's realizing he's not completely sure the man _can_ blink. he hasn't seen it so far - look, irrelevant, the _point is_ that jon's powers clearly aren't working and hes not happy about it.

" _hi!!_ its just _swell_ to meet you in person!!" kevin greets with sickening pep, beaming. he certainly _sounds_ human - if he wasn't so over-the-top cheerful and hadn't just implied that he'd seen jon without him knowing, jon would even call his voice pleasant. "i'm kevin, just so you know. and you?" at that, kevin holds out a hand. if possible, his seemingly permanent smile grows even brighter.

jon does _not_ want to shake the monster's hand. he learned his lesson last time, _thank you very much_. unfortunately, the fact that he _also_ doesn't want to piss said monster off when his powers aren't working wins out, so he gives it the lightest grip he can. unfortunately, kevin's grasp is tight, and he gives a hearty shake.

"...i know your name, kevin." jon says slowly, trying to gain some semblance of the upper hand. "and i'm the archivist. _clearly_."

kevin doesn't blink at him, but his confused tilt of the head conveys the same emotion. can he let go of jon's hand already? "that's a job, not a name, and its not _that_ obvious. you _do_ know i meant your name, right?" he asks, and jon bristles at the clear condescension. "but okay, archivist!! call me the voice then, i guess!!" he cracks, grinning _once again_ , before dropping the smile. "im joking. dont do that, my name is _kevin_."

(more than a little static rises at the use of the words "the voice". jon keeps that information in the back of his mind, as it somehow reminds him of the night vale statement - come to think of it, wasn't there a radio host there too? that part of the statement had been scribbled out to the degree where it was impossible to tell what had been written, even with the help of the eye, but he _did_ recall a mention...)

" _i know what you meant._ my name is _jon_ , if you _really_ need to know." he snaps, before instantly regretting it. great, now he's giving the monster his name _and_ being a dick about it - he's starting to see those self destructive tendencies everyone wont shut up about.

kevin's smiling again, though it feels considerably colder. he _finally_ drops the handshake, thank god - his hand had felt relatively normal at first, if calloused, but the longer it held jon's the less human it felt. "nifty!! that's much less of a mouthful, jon, though there's no need to be unfriendly about it!! we're a friendly community here, you know." the blood on the walls _screams_ otherwise. "but you're new, so its okay!! i'm sure you'll adjust."

"i'm- not planning on staying long." jon asserts, trying not to let the nerves from the icy way kevin's looking at him seep into his voice. "there's, ah- i wanted to ask a few questions. i was just... looking around. its- very friendly?" mission failed.

at the very least the compliment seemed to do the trick, and kevin's sharp eye contact melts back into something more jovial. " _isn't it?_ i really do love it here in the bluffs!!" he says, looking genuinely pleased. someone's fickle.

something seems to hit charles, then. "oh!! love, by the way - lauren was looking for you. she was listening to the show, i believe?" the taller man says, looking once again displeased. jon had almost forgotten about the woman from earlier, and having met kevin in person doesn't answer any questions - if anything its _more_ confusing, as the two's demeanor is oddly similar. not quite the _same_ , but enough to note.

kevin's smile grows wider, though his mood only seems to dip based off the sourness of his expression. " _ah_ , was she now? that's funny, i meant to speak with her!!" he responds tightly, and good lord, if jon hadn't thought kevin's voice was syrupy sweet _before?_ "good on her for listening to the community radio, though - she's shown such _little_ civic pride since her... mayoral stint. good on her, truly!! i suppose we have no _choice_ but to speak, do we? can't back out now." jon doesn't follow kevin's annoyance at this, when he was planning on speaking to the woman anyway - there's clearly something else going on, but jon doesn't get it.

charles rests a hand lightly on kevin's shoulder, and the latter shifts into it slightly, giving a small hum. "you don't have to do anything you don't want, i'm just letting you know - she might look for you later." he says, and there's more than a touch of reassurance in his voice. jon _still_ doesn't get it - is kevin scared of lauren, or something? jon's _really_ not getting that impression, plus everything about kevin suggests he could easily take her in a fight. "we could go somewhere with donny, if you want to avoid her. i'm fairly certain she learned her lesson last time."

(jon doesn't ask what _lesson_ or who donny is, but he gets pretty close to it. what is _happening_ in this town?)

kevin looks thoughtful - jon thinks, its hard to gauge emotions with the eyes - before shaking his head. "hm, no, her and i can talk. i think i'll just make sure _i_ find _her_ first. but that sounds _lovely_ afterwards!! maybe we could go to spinning smiles again?" the syrup that appeared with lauren's name has all but dripped from kevin's voice, leaving him only at his _earlier_ level of blatantly saccharine.

then, his eyes light up, and he turns back to jon. _damn_. "oh!! but first and fore _most_ , jon!! you're here to talk, right?" he questions with enthusiasm, tilting his head a touch.

jon supposes that's one way to put it, so he nods in confirmation. kevin brightens up, spinning his hands energetically. "an _interview!!_ sounds nifty, come on then!!" kevin chirps, and while interview isn't quite the word jon would use, he's not really tempted to pick much of a fight about it. kevin leads him along into yet _another_ bloodsoaked room, beaming up a storm

jon glances around quickly, though outside of even _more_ viscera decorating the room, there's not all that much to note. there's a few motivational posters taped up on the glass, with such _moving_ slogans as "don't give up! keep on smiling!" and "if at first you don't live in a town that's _not_ completely overtaken by a faceless and unrelenting corporatocracy, try try again!", along with some slightly less tacky (but no less garish) desert bluffs community radio flyers. most of the latter are newer looking despite the bloodstains and have "desert bluffs too community radio" in fine print below the bright "DBCR!!" letters like its the negative side effects in a commercial for allergy relief. however, some of them both lack this print and look noticeably older, and the places around _these_ posters are the only ones without a spot of blood and viscera. the caution there implies that the gore wasn't from some recent studio bloodbath, which would be a relief if it didn't _also_ imply that the gore was an intentional design choice. jon does his best to swallow down a heave.

kevin sits down before his mic, before gesturing jon to another seat that's just as bloodsoaked as the walls. when jon doesn't sit, kevin gently pushes off some _teeth_ that were sitting in the blood, fucking hell, but does nothing about the gore before gesturing again. jon spots a knife near the mic, relatedly.

...right. jon's just going to stand.

either way, the bright 'on air!' sign clicks on (as far as jon can tell from its own volition), and kevin starts in. "if it moves like a centipede, thinks like a centipede, and screams its awful taunting agonies towards the sky like a centipede - _well_. conclusion is obvious." jesus, why's that sound so _familiar_? "welcome to desert bluffs!!"

(with those last four words, jon can feel the odd... _energy_ in the room heighten. he clenches his fists a little tighter.)

"now listeners, we've got some _exciting_ news for you all!! there's a _special guest_ in the studio with us today!!" kevin chirps, his voice dripping with a mix of honey and genuine enthusiasm. "now, _jon_ , tell the listeners your job for us!!"

jon's half tempted to stay silent, but elects not to risk it on something so minor, getting out a quick "the archivist" into the mic. kevin beams and his eyesockets... light up-? ish? they light up as much as empty pits can, jon supposes?

"a _real-live archivist!!_ as you *all* know, we don't have a library or archive at the current juncture, although the former _is_ in the works!! honest!!" the word honest feels unnecessary, but as its _far_ from the strangest thing said today jon lets it slide. "so, we don't have any archivists. and yet, here he is!! hey, maybe he can find the book of devouring for us!!"

(that last line has the delivery of a joke, but jon _does_ make a stubborn attempt to Know where said book is, if more to understand at least _one_ thing about this town. with the energy of a final dying attempt, the eye spits out the phrases "good," "pamphlet," and "arthropod". out of the whopping _three words_ , none are illuminating, making this a _wonderful_ waste of time!!

...great, the saccharine is rubbing off on him. jon had better get to the bottom of this town _quick_ so he can get to night vale immediately.)

with nary a thought to jon's clear internal distress, kevin moves along instantly. "but i doubt it!! that book is _long_ gone, never to be seen again!! shame, really- but oh, _speaking of!_ all smiles day is this wednesday, so the day'll be off!! normally i'd be reading this in the community calendar, but i thought it might be in _people's best interest_ if they heard, you know? just... depending on who's listening, and all. _ah!!_ but look at me, going off on my tangents. we're here, listeners, to talk about our _guest_ in the studio today. so, jon!!"

it takes jon a moment to realize he's being spoken to. its not like he's not used to hearing people speak in long blocks - his conversations with people tend to lead to him going on for twice as long, so it'd be an unreasonable complaint - but something about kevin's radio-hosting feels... overwhelming. attention-grabbing might be the kinder word, as its not a _bad_ sense of complete focus, but it isnt good either. were this just a _really_ skilled host jon would be less uneasy, but as it stands with the _literal monster_ before him, it reminds him uncomfortably of statements. that comparison makes no sense, but its all jon can think of.

anyway, he's being addressed.

jon gives a small nod, and kevin continues. you can _very_ much tell the man talks for a job. "what questions did you have to ask, now!!" the man chirps, leaning against his hand and grinning at jon.

jon hesitates. what _does_ he want to ask, exactly? he wants to know (to _feed_ ) of course, but about what? kevin, lauren, the town as a whole? there's so much to know here, to _see_ here, but its all so _obnoxiously_ beneath the surface that jon can't think of a good starting point to try and tear that surface off.

he must be causing quite the dead air, because the other avatar in the booth is starting to look annoyed. "well, go on, friend!!" kevin chirps, before looking jon straight in the eyes. logically, jon knows that the gaping holes are only locked on his default non-eldritch had-since-he-was-born eyes, but he somehow gets the strangest feeling that kevin's staring into _all_ of his eyes at once - and they all blinked first. " _ask me_."

then, with no warning, the constant interference _floods_ into jon and overflows him. he _thinks_ the eye opens and he _thinks_ he reaches for a tape recorder and he _thinks_ theres a _click_ as he turns it on but he can't be sure of _anything_ because despite Seeing he cant _see_ and- and-

-and first, the weather.

[ _CLICK_ ]

[A HEAVY STATIC IS HEARD, THOUGH NOT A FAMILIAR ONE. _THE ARCHIVIST_ MIGHT DESCRIBE IT AS THE FEELING YOU GET WHEN YOURE IN THE SUN FOR TOO LONG, IF HE WERE MOST POETICALLY INCLINED. THE WEATHER IS OVER, BUT THERE'S SOMETHING ELSE ALMOST MUSICAL WE CAN'T QUITE HEAR. UNDERLYING ALL THE OTHER BACKGROUND NOISE IS THE FAMILIAR WHIRRING OF A RECORDER.]

[THE STATIC HEIGHTENS AS _THE ARCHIVIST_ SPEAKS, BUT ITS DIFFICULT TO TELL IF ITS RISING WITH HIM OR TRYING TO DROWN HIM OUT.]

ARCHIVIST

(with a healthy mix of anger and fear) what the _hell_ was- what the hell did you _do to me?!_ that's not- the beholding isn't _like that,_ what the fuck was _that?!_

[THE STATIC BUILDS SIMILARLY AS _THE VOICE_ SPEAKS. THERE IS NO QUESTION HERE, HOWEVER, THAT THE STATIC IS _HIS_ POWER AND IT IS RISING WITH HIM.]

VOICE

i... played the weather, and told you to ask me a question? i had to do the former, and i thought you were _planning_ on the latter - you're funny, you know!!

ARCHIVIST

that's not- that wasn't _weather_ -

VOICE

(without hesitation) _-yes it was,_ jon. again, your jokes are incredibly witty!! you almost remind me of cecil, you two'd be thick as thieves!!

ARCHIVIST

i don't- who's _cecil_ , is he- _like you??_

[THE STATIC OF COMPULSION IS JUST BARELY AUDIBLE, BUT ALMOST ENTIRELY DROWNED OUT BY WHAT CAN NOW BE RECOGNIZED AS _THE VOICE'S_ TRADEMARK STATIC]

VOICE

i was under the impression we were asking questions about me? but sure, you could say that!! he's a _great_ pal of mine, so i suppose we would _have_ to have things in common!! our jobs, for one.

ARCHIVIST

(calming down, but dazed) your... jobs? hosting a radio show, you mean? or- or being _the voice??_

VOICE

(more than a touch condescendingly) ...both? they're the same thing!! but yes, that.

ARCHIVIST

the same... tell me about your job, then. being the voice.

VOICE

(lightly) _hm!!_ now you're asking questions!! sure, if that's what you want to hear - ask me!!

ARCHIVIST

ask... you? oh- _oh._ you want to make a statement?

VOICE

(genuinely confused, but still dripping in honey) aren't the answers to questions usually statements? kind of how it works!!

ARCHIVIST

right- yes, alright.

[ _THE VOICE'S_ STATIC HAS BEEN STEADILY DECLINING SINCE _THE ARCHIVIST_ REQUESTED _THE VOICE_ DESCRIBE HIS JOB, AND HAS NOW LEVELED OUT, ALLOWING THE STATIC OF COMPULSION TO RISE AGAIN. THE BARELY AUDIBLE MUSIC CONTINUES TO PLAY.]

ARCHIVIST

statement of kevin-?

VOICE

just kevin.

ARCHIVIST

...right then - statement of _kevin_ , regarding his... career choice in community radio. taken live from subject. statement begins.

VOICE

 _whoo!!_ i'm getting jitters!! but yes, my statement - hm.

VOICE (STATEMENT)

i'm aware that was an attempt at euphemism, listener, but its a funny choice of words.

would you call being an archivist as something minor as a _career choice?_ maybe you would. maybe being an archivist, _the_ archivist, can be boxed up into something as simple as one choice of many. sending your cv, requesting a promotion, not being late, being nice to your boss, sacrificing your time and mental health - minor things that came together to form something as simple as a job opportunity. a career choice.

a voice's decisions are as follows: live knowing your "career choice" has been eternally made _for_ you, or die and leave your town voiceless. throw your fragile, mortal body on the line, or have it taken from you without a fight. waste away as you break down, or refuse to die.

how much of a career choice _are_ those really, listener?

the voice is predestined. the voice's failure is _also_ predestined. it doesn't matter if this downfall is decidedly _death_ or otherwise - its decided for you.

for desert bluffs, it was otherwise. and it was decided for _all_ of us.

if you want to know about my choices, listener, you're asking the wrong questions. do you want to know how much blood is on my hands? how maniacally _joyful_ that blood made me feel? that's a choice you can ask about. do you want to know how ruthlessly i acted on my desire for power? thats another choice you can interview me on!! do you want to hear about how i always, _always_ looked out for myself alone? do you want to know why i _chose_ to threaten a child? do you want to know why i _decided_ to accept _dear_ lauren mallard's offers to do _unspeakable things_ to people, families, _towns?_ do you want to know about my _life_ decisions, instead of my career ones?

because those were choices, _dear_ listener. i had options. i couldn't have backed out entirely, but there were things i could have said no to. there may have been consequences, but i had choices. bad things happened to me, but i intentionally caused bad things to others. _with enthusiasm._

not all of it was intentional!! no, no, i was tied up enough in their web that many of my choices weren't _my_ choices, and that many more had lines too blurred to make a solid decision either way on. my brain was affected, i'm sure!!

but i made choices. i am who i am, listener. i can't blame my choices on me _not being myself_ when i _am_ myself. there's only one me, and its the one i am now!! not the frowny-face naïve radio host, not the ruthless corporate machine, not a reluctant radio host or a desperate member of the good family - me. kevin.

oh!! but i'm going on _such_ a tangent - you wanted to know about my career choices, right? about the voice, not kevin. apologies!!

now listener, my timelines are... messy!! blurry and spiraled, a bit - sorry about that!! i honestly can't tell you how much of this is in order, and how much isn't. don't tell me to, because i really can't!!

career choice one: becoming the voice. i'm sure this is the one you'd _love_ me to go into depth on, but i really can't!! that part of that kevin's life is... muddy!! i can't single out a thing.

if you want to know about voices _generally_ , i can tell you that its a prophesy of sorts. my _double_ knows more about the intricacies than me, i'm sure, but i'll give it a go - the voice can see the entire town, and places outside of it if they _really_ stretch. the voice can know things they shouldn't be able to, although there's minimal control. the voice can report - the voice _has_ to report. even that's an understatement, because a voice _thrives_ on reporting. gathering information about your community - i've heard of voices who didn't work in community radio, though as far as i'm aware all of these stories ended as violently as possible - and going on the radio to _give_ that information? that's a voice's purpose. that _is_ the voice.

most importantly, the voice is always the voice, and you learn this too young to say no even if you could. its not... a bad thing. not always, anyway - i don't think it was a bad thing for me? i remember quite enjoying it!! at least, i think it was enjoyment... funny how memory works, hm? _hilarious!!_

that's about all i've got to state on that for you, listener, so i'll just continue.

career choice three: not wasting away to a slow death alone in the desert. this one i can be a little clearer on, but only because it was such an unclear time in and of itself!! things were so... confusing. my timeline's are a total _disaster_ , like i told you, but i don't think its ever been pointed out to me like it was then!! would you believe it, i was even _more_ confused then than i was when desert bluffs was taken!! oh, i'd be in the studio just _certain_ i'd spoken to carlos that morning and had a nice long chat about thermodynamics, and then i'd remember that he was _gone!!_ and then i'd spend a few fretting over whether i'd had a whole conversation with nobody or if i'd never had it at all, _or_ if carlos wasn't gone in the first place and _that_ was the point i was confused on and i should go check on him - really!! it was all so inconvenient, and those moments of confusion and fear were _far_ from the worst of it.

i don't know if i'd have died. i know i _can_ die, and i _felt_ like i was dying, but i have no idea if i was even _close_ to the requirements i have to meet. humans are social creatures, you know? that's what carlos told me, before all that!! but i'm not human, am i, _jon?_ i certainly wasn't then. maybe i could've survived forever in that desert, alone.

should i have died, jon? do you think monsters deserve death? do the choices i _did_ make or the choices i _didn't_ nail my coffin harder? what requirements do you think make a monster deserve it? if you had the chance to kill me, would you?

one of my many ways of surviving might push you further in one direction: i became even _less_ human, if i had humanity to lose. i can't elaborate on this in any poetic way, other than to say i believe in a smiling god and there are _literal centipedes_ crawling around in my eyes. haha, hey!! do you want to see?

[WE HEAR SKITTERING NOISES, ALONGSIDE THE SOUND OF SOMETHING TEARING OPEN. THERE'S A YELP FROM _THE ARCHIVIST_ , AND THE CLATTER OF SOMETHING BEING KNOCKED OFF A DESK. BEFORE _THE VOICE_ SPEAKS, THE SKITTERING FADES AWAY, AND A SOUND ALMOST LIKE A ZIPPER IS HEARD.]

VOICE (STATEMENT)

(clearly on some kind of roll) _oh!!_ smiling god, i _completely_ skipped over choice number two!! boy, i'm not great at this, am i? i'd _hate_ to be unclear to you, listener.

career choice number two was both the stupidest move on this list and the one that was the least in my control. i don't know where to start with it, really.

i loved desert bluffs. adored it. as the voice, i was - am, in some ways - the beating heart of that little town. and i was happy to be!! i loved my community, i loved the people in it, i loved _the bluffs._ desert bluffs was important to me. desert bluffs was _everything_ to me!! all my friends were here, and in a silly sort of way i felt like the town itself was my friend too!! though, most accurately, the town was a part of me.

do i sound naïve to you, listener? i should!! i really, really should.

but naivete aside, you need to know that to understand. and you need to understand, don't you?

like i told you, this time was muddy. i can't place whether they crawled in fast, or if it was deceptively slow. any passage of time is completely lost to me!! all i know is that one day vanessa and i were doing our best impression of the obnoxious capitalist community radio host that would take my job were that strange new company to try and buy the studio, and then...

well, then the jokes weren't particularly funny anymore.

oh, but i had a _career choice!!_ i could stand down, or i could _try_. i could try very, _very_ hard, and i could give a last fighting chance to get my town back. tale as old as time, right? a classic decision for a self-described _hero_ to have.

...did i have a choice, though?

i can tell you now, i didn't _feel_ like i did. and i was _glad_ to not have a choice!! pleased as _punch_ to know what i was going to do - to know that i was going to _run in there_ and i would _save the day_ and my town would be _great and happy and free_ and it would be _because of my heroism!!_ doesn't that sound just _splendid_? no wonder i was so glad to have a _guarantee_ of exactly what _i'd_ do, of how _i_ would prevail!! no wonder i _threw_ my fragile, sole body in the doorway to block _hundreds of bloodthirsty strexcorp representatives_ after _everyone else on my side had given up._ it was the only choice presented to me, and i was glad for it!!

i was less glad when they forced their way past me, when i experienced the worst agony i have ever felt, when i cried for the last time in _years_ , when i was forever physically changed. then, it felt much less like only being given one choice and much _more_ like all the others had been _ripped from me._ and hey, wouldn't you know it, those choices weren't the _only_ thing ripped from me that day!!

but that wasn't a _career_ choice, was it? the career choice, i can say with confidence, was _not_ my own. that was made for me. _vehemently_.

is my statement done, now? i think i answered your question!!

ARCHIVIST

(quietly) ...how?

[DESPITE THE LOW TONE OF _THE ARCHIVIST'S_ VOICE, THE TRADEMARK STATIC OF COMPULSION ONLY BUILDS]

VOICE (STATEMENT?)

hm? how what?

ARCHIVIST

how was it made for you? what did they _do?_

VOICE

i don't - that's not what you _asked me._ why would you need -

ARCHIVIST

\- i'm asking it _now,_ what did they _do,_ kevin?

VOICE

(once again, a healthy mix of anger and fear) _i'm not telling you-_ i'm not _capable_ of telling you, jon!!

[SOMETHING SHATTERS, SEEMINGLY OF ITS OWN ACCORD]

ARCHIVIST

 _tell me, kevin-_ i need to _know!!_

[ _T_ _HE ARCHIVIST'S_ STATIC SPIKES. FOR A MOMENT, _THE VOICE'S_ GOES DOWN IN TURN.]

VOICE (STATEMENT?)

 _they-_ they, i... i don't know, it was all so...

[ _THE VOICE'S_ STATIC RETURNS WITH A VENGEANCE.]

VOICE

(firm, though unsteady) ...no.

(desperately, now) no, _stop it!!_ stop it, you _don't!!_ you _don't_ need to know, _listener,_ so _stop that-_ you can't control me, i'm not going to _TELL you-_

[BOTH STATICS HAVE BEEN STEADILY RISING. AT THIS POINT, THOUGH, THEY DROWN OUT ALL BACKGROUND NOISE - BEFORE SUBSIDING AGAIN.]

[THE STUDIO IS SILENT.]

to make up for dead air, desert bluffs too community radio will now be rerunning the previous traffic report, for those of you who missed important information. certain interns didn't ask *permission* to do this, but certain interns are also sure the media will be fine with her doing it. probably. i mean, it's not like he could fire a ghost, right?

over to kevin.

...

and now: traffic.

don't get in your car.

hey, i can see you glancing around for your keys, you know!! don't do it. _were_ you to get in your car, it would start up, of course. don't be silly! that bump against the car in front of you on thursday was only embarrassing, nothing that would ruin your perfectly good car! yes, if you got in your car, it would run - but it won't, because you are following my advice to _not get in your car._

now, if you didn't follow that advice and your car ran like i'm telling you it would, you _could_ drive along state street. if you drove along state street, you wouldn't get in an accident. aforementioned incident aside, you're a good enough driver that it would be fine. really, was your pride _so_ hurt that you can't believe that? is your opinion of your fellow citizens _so_ low that you think _they_ would cause a crash? _really?_ no, no, i'm _telling_ you, you wouldn't get in an accident.

you won't either way, of course, because you are _not going to get in your car._

if you got in your car, and your car ran, and you didn't get into an accident, you wouldn't be late for anything. you wouldn't get a flat tire. you wouldn't plug in your phone and play one of your old playlists for the good, healthy nostalgia but have your hands tense up on the wheel as the music is suddenly cut off and a voice cries to you from the radio for help but you don't know and you _can't_ know where its coming from and why it sounds so familiar and why you're about to burst into tears in the middle of the road. also, you wouldn't run out of gas. none of these possible minor mishaps _would_ be possible were you to get in your car.

what you _would_ do, would be finding yourself driving towards the edge of town. not where laurence levine over near the _other_ edge of town lives, but the other way. towards the entrance. you wouldn't know _why_ you were doing this, exactly. you wouldn't leave. you wouldn't _want_ to leave. your daughter, amalie, is starting seventh grade. sixth grade was a rough year for her, but she's actually made a few friends this year and her mental health has improved significantly. you wouldn't want to move her like that. so, you wouldn't be heading _out_ of town, just to the brink of it. you wouldn't know why.

once you got there, you would see the listener, the watcher. he is not old or young - though the grey hair and exhausted demeanor confuses you, for a moment - not inside nor outside the town. funnily enough, the scars scattered across his hands are almost like yours.

his eyes are not like yours. they would stare into you, were you to have gotten in your car that would start up and would not crash. he would ask you a question. you wouldn't be able to answer. you wouldn't be able to _not_ answer. you wouldn't be able to blink, to look away - he wouldn't _let_ you. you wouldn't be able to place why he looks so wrong, so _inhuman._

you would be terrified.

your eyes would hurt. your ears would hurt. your throat would hurt from speaking for so long. your brain would hurt from telling him every single little detail you can. your heart would hurt from not being able to tell the listener the details he actually _wants,_ because all of a sudden you would _desperately_ desire to answer his questions in full. when you would get back into the car that would have brought you to him, your hands would hurt from how tightly you would grip the steering wheel, the emotions from the _horrible_ things he would have dredged up, things you wouldn't want to want to tell him.

you would never be exactly the same. you would be very similar, yes, but you would never again be _quite_ be the person you were.

do not get in your car.

also, there's a bit of a jam on pleasant street!! but you won't need to use that information, will you?

jon doesn't remember blacking out. he remembers everything leading up to it, of course. even if he didn't, its all captured on the tape he's clutching like a lifeline. losing consciousness, though - he can't tell you how that happened. _god_ , his head is pounding.

when he glances over to kevin, he _swears_ the man is glaring daggers at him, but he switches to a grin almost instantaneously. there's some blood on his face that wasn't there before, and jon suspects its kevin's own - come to think of it, he vaguely remembers kevin scratching _hard_ at those scars during... his statement. jon stifles the urge to Know how that's connected, as he suspects that may be both obvious to kevin and in poor taste. plus, he does feel... slightly guilty. while statements _do_ feel incredibly satisfying, and kevin's statement _especially_ so, he can still see that ripping something that someone who despises having their free will taken from them apparently _physically cannot say_ is... not jon's best move. he's just so _hungry_ now...

" _don't_ do that again, jon. i really couldn't tell you, y'know!!" kevin admonishes brightly, though jon suspects the way kevin is lightly but frantically spinning his hands isn't in the positive way it had been while he was doing his show before that statement. "its not very nice to force people to tell you things they don't know how to say."

"...i know." jon answers, shifting slightly. plenty of people have not wanted to be compelled, but being so _adamantly_ against it that their powers rendered both the compeller and the compellee unconscious is... new.

"great!! then i'm _sure_ you won't try to rip that particular tidbit out of me again!!" kevin chirps, and while his sugary sweetness hasn't reached the level it had when that lauren was the topic of discussion, its certainly close. "since that's the case, we're peachy - we all make mistakes, _right_?"

jon would take offense - _does_ take offense, on principle - to kevin putting the two of them in the same category of "making mistakes", but seeing as he just did something objectively monstrous, he's almost certain he has no leg to stand on. since he doesn't want to pick a pointless fight with someone whose ties to the powers are clearly incredibly strong, he just gives a lackluster " _right_ " and nods.

"alrighty!! i suppose we can just let bygones be bygones then, can't we?" kevin says cheerily, a cheer that doesn't fade as he continues "now, _get out of my studio!!_ "

jon does so. it was stifling in there anyway, in more ways than one.

charles, who has apparently been waiting outside, looks _very_ concerned. and to be honest, the part of jon that's always been a little more susceptible to the draw of being a monster, the part that makes it hard to extract the eye's power to the avatar's whims - the part that a therapist would say he needs to stop isolating from himself - perks up. as far as jon can tell, charles doesn't have any of his own powers, and is _entirely_ nonthreatening. he _also_ happens to be, out of everyone, the person who jon expects is most likely to have been told the parts of the statements kevin won't give. pushing _him_ for information would be _much_ less dangerous and borderline impossible as pushing kevin is, if jon can just -

\- too late. either kevin's a telepath or jon's just too obvious, because the former quickly links arms with the latter and gives jon a particularly venomous grin. *dont even think about it* is received loud and clear. " _jo-_ on!! you look _wiped-_ do you maybe want to head out? the studio can be _exhausting_ for some people."

jon's been missing implications left and right today, but he's pretty sure this is one he's in on - kevin is asking if he's going to leave the charles lead alone or not. as jon is _quite_ sure his blood could be next on the walls if kevin doesn't give an affirmative right quick, he nods as fast as he can get his head to move.

kevin's beam no longer feels like a threat, and jon detenses. " _brilliant!!_ come on then, jon. love, can you go pick up donovan from grandma josefine's? maybe take him to the arcade or something?" he turns to charles at the last part, giving the most genuinely friendly grin jon has seen from the man.

charles gives kevin a questioning look, and for a moment looks like he's about to say something, before pausing. "...right, okay - i'll see you tonight?" kevin nods perkily in response, and charles smiles back. "alright, okay - i'll tell donny you're coming over." with that charles gives a quick wave and heads off, fiddling idly with his sleeve.

it occurs to jon _very_ belatedly that this is the first time he's been alone with kevin. one could argue they were alone together in the studio, although charles was in the next room over, and we all saw how _that_ went. he suddenly wishes he'd chanced it with staying in the studio.

he glances over to kevin to check if kevin's expression has visibly changed, but it hasn't - it looks just as sugary sweet and slightly strained as it always has. he _does_ drop jon's arm, though - jon briefly considers running, but if kevin _is_ planning on causing him harm jon is virtually certain he knows who could outrun who.

while he's considering this, kevin gestures to the exit. jon doesn't waste any time following the man - he's already _beyond_ tested his luck, he doesn't need to push anything further.

kevin appears to have fully relaxed now, swinging his arms a little and humming a repetitive little jingle under his breath that jon _almost_ but not quite recognizes. the energy is... tense, to say the least, but not so much that kevin seems to pay it any mind. he stops outside the studio, grinning a little. "well now!! where'd you like to go first?"

what?

jon blinks with all forty-six eyes. "where... do i want to go-??" he questions, not really sure where kevin's going with this... at all.

kevin's eyes do that odd almost-lighting-up-but-not-quite thing, and jon gets the uncomfortable feeling that he's being laughed at. "you wanted a tour, jon, didnt you? im the voice of desert bluffs, after all!! who better to ask?" he chirps, setting his hands on his hips. "i assume thats what you came here for, archivist?"

...there it is.

"so you _are_ playing dumb - you know who i am?" jon exclaims, shaking his head. kevin looks confused, though still _decidedly_ entertained. "you know im the archivist - then you _know_ what i came here for, you know i came to see!! to _understand_ \- you _know_ what i came for."

kevin gives him a strange look at that. strange for kevin, in particular, because its _subtle_. in the entirety of the past few hours - despite always having some sort of smile - his expressions have been incredibly clear, almost _exaggerated_ with their emotion. joy, adoration, anger, even fear brieflt - something about his behavior always seemed over-the-top, and jon hadn't been able to tell if he'd been playing it up or if that's just genuinely how he naturally acts. his expression now is _far_ from exaggerated. jon can't quite tell if the furrow in his brow is confused or considering or possibly just put-out, but its _something_ *unclear. that in and of itself speaks volumes, really.

after a brief moment of silence, kevin asks about the last question jon was expecting. "say, have you ever been to night vale?"

jon almost drops his fucking recorder at the name. he'd almost forgot what he came here for, but he's _remembering_ now - honestly, kevin's "statement" is opening about a million more questions about that _other_ town deeply ingrained in the powers, and _any_ information this monster of a man can give is _greatly_ appreciated.

"no!!" jon exclaims, turning all his eyes to kevin. "but i need to, i can't figure it out - have _you?_ "

kevin shrugs off the last question, giving a bright smile. "not in quite some time, no!! but if you want to understand things, one would _think_ the right thing to do would be to talk to an expert!! and there just so happens to be one in night vale."

" _where?_ " jon immediately asks, his grip on the recorder tightening. 

kevin gives him a funny look. "in night vale!! i just _told_ you -"

jon _isn't_ in the mood for kevin talking like jon's missing something obvious when its clearly the other way around. "- i _know that,_ where's _night vale?_ how do i get there?!"

kevin doesn't seem put off by jon snapping and trying his damndest to get his earlier compulsion back. whatever the hell adjacent to fear had happened in the studio, those emotions are long shut off now. "through a door, obviously!! how else do you get anywhere?" he answers brightly, and _once again_ jon doesn't enjoy feeling like he's being teased. "i can take you to _the_ door, if you're worried about messing up directions. you _are_ new around here!!"

jon would take more offense to the _constant_ condescension if kevin wasn't handing him what he had came here for on a silver platter. he considers voicing said offense anyway, just on the principle of the thing, but decides against it. if he's lucky he'll never see kevin again - although the man's statement and jon's actions during do leave a funny feeling of... sympathy? that familiar sensation of lashing out due to something he doesn't want to admit being reflected in others? or maybe just plain old statement hunger? the man is still fucking _impossible_ , and that's _without_ the heaps of gore surrounding him at all times - so its not like making a point about not talking down to him would be particularly useful this late in the game. plus, the whole compulsion debacle isn't going to win jon any favors. so, he just nods enthusiastically.

"can do!!" kevin confirms, and while his usual brightness is back, there's still a certain something to his expression that looks almost... thoughtful.

he gestures for jon to come along, and as jon has already agreed, he follows. jon was half expecting the man to just open a door on the wall of the nearest building and gesture jon into the halls - parts of kevin's statement and general behavior _does_ clock as spiral involvement, and the way his movements flicker and have a strange distorted stop-motion look to them reinforces this theory - but kevin just leads jon along.

the pair walk for quite a while in silence, shockingly. kevin appears lost in thought, and while he does say a few things every now and again, its mostly to himself and quiet enough that jon can't catch it. he still has that same 10% thoughtful 90% kevin-brand constant joy look on his face, but whatever it is he's thinking, he doesn't plan on sharing it with jon.

as they walk further from the town, the interference subsides, though there's still that staticky feeling that jon heavily suspects is coming from kevin himself. they've left the town by now, and jon's fairly sure he could make a solid attempt to compel kevin about whatever he's so focused on - but as _that's_ when he realizes kevin could easily kill him out here if he was as angry and frantic as he was before, he decides against it.

as a matter of fact, he's not 100% sure that's not kevin's plan already. jon's not seeing any towns in the distance here, and as he mentioned before he doubts night vale is in the vast. were kevin to want to kill jon away from town, this would be about the best possible opportunity. jon's halfway through cursing himself and a quarter of the way through debating on whether he should run before the radio host finally speaks up.

"here we are!!" kevin says brightly, before gesturing to... a door?

it doesn't _look_ like a typical spiral doorway. while jon's powers aren't quite up and running enough to just Know if it is or not, he _has_ seen quite a few of those as a side effect of being best-described-as-friends with a distortion, and this doesn't match. it looks older than spiral doors usually do, and its not bright enough. the odd patterns in the wood aren't there, and all around it just looks like a normal door. an _old oak door,_ the eye ever-so-helpfully provides.

"...night vale's behind this door?" jon questions, with more than a touch of sarcasm. another difference from spiral doorways and the one before him is that, usually, the point of them is that you're tricked into _opening them_ to see what could possibly be through it. _this_ is just... a random doorway in the middle of the desert. as he can _quite clearly see that there is nothing behind it,_ he has some significant doubts.

"of course not!! you can _see_ what's behind it, jon. its just more desert!!" kevin says, and jon _thinks_ its a joke because he starts laughing after, although knowing kevin he could just as easily be laughing _at jon._ maybe both? jon's about to yell at him for wasting his time and leading him all the way out here, when he continues. "night vale is _through_ the door, of course."

jon perks up a bit, if only because he's beheld that kevin _probably_ isn't lying, _if_ he's far enough away from the town that he can trust his own powers. that's not much to go on, though, so he debates with himself as kevin once again elaborates. jon supposes he's getting out all his wasted condescending chatter now.

"now, you want to understand, right? in that case, there's someone in night vale you should speak to!! he's a _scientist_ , so make of that what you will, but he's also _very_ smart and observant. i'm sure you'll get along just great!! he's pretty hard to miss, i'm _sure_ you'll find him. would you, ah - tell him kevin says hi?" kevin finishes, but that only lasts a moment before his slightly strained winning smile becomes a slightly strained look of realization. "oh, right - don't say that around cecil, though!! he won't let you talk to carlos, and he might fight you." ...kevin's _great pal_ cecil? surely not, right? "i wouldn't mention me around tamika flynn either, she'll _definitely_ fight you, and the sheriff's secret police is also a pretty bad bet... _oh_ , and steve carlsberg is too nice to fight you but he'll tell cecil, so make sure he's not around either!! and you should also watch out for - hm. the whole list might get tricky to remember, so i'll tell you what - just don't mention my name around anyone besides carlos, okay? then you'll be just fine!!"

(based on the fact that kevin is literally covered in blood, jon recognizes the name carlos from that statement as someone who _left_ , and kevin has alluded to an entire _list_ of people who would literally attack jon for associating with the man, he's pretty much decided that he will be avoiding _any_ reference to have gotten here through kevin. jesus christ, what did this guy _do_ last time he was in night vale?!

of course, he's not going to _tell_ kevin that, so he just gives a vague nod of understanding that could easily be confused for agreement.)

kevin gives most likely his millionth beam today and gestures to the door. "and there you are!! don't rip anyone's secrets out while you're there, yeah?" jon makes himself laugh at the clearly bitter joke, if only because if he imagines someone he actually knew making it it would be genuinely funny. he just needs to get through the door and he's out of here... "until next time, archivist!! _until next time._ "

jon does _not_ enjoy the implications of that statement, so he gives a curt wave and throws open the door. to kevin's credit, there _is_ a moonlit - despite it having been broad daylight in desert bluffs - town on the other end. with less hesitation than he should, somewhat bolstered by the desire to get _far_ away from desert bluffs (too?), he crosses the old oak door.

finally, he's getting to what he wanted in the first place - and not too soon, that was all _woefully_ inefficient.

**Author's Note:**

> i tried to get the weather to play from the Specific Lyrics that i chose the song for but as you can see that did not work so alas thats the best ive got
> 
> anyway in theory ill write something less blatantly self indulgent soon but here this is in the meantime, its my first fic ive posted on ao3 in several years so apologies for any formatting issues
> 
> might write one ab him in night vale as well ? though it has been done before so probably not but its a possibility


End file.
